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cuubism · 1 year

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for @magnusbae, as usual 😂

“If you relent now, you may be offered a small degree of mercy,” Dream told his captors from where he was sitting cross-legged in the summoning circle. Irritating, to have found himself summoned again. He was going to have to devise better protections against this sort of thing. At least he had his clothes this time, that was a small comfort.

A greater comfort was the certain knowledge that someone was coming for him. Rare, that feeling, and brilliantly warm in its newness.

One of the men sneered down at him. “You aren’t in a position to be talking about mercy, Dream of the Endless.”

His name spoken in such a way sent a prickle up Dream’s spine. The disrespect.

“I speak not of myself,” he said, then fell silent, watching a look of unease flash across his captor’s face, the worried expression he sent to his compatriot. The realization, there, that he meant someone was coming after him, and the fear of what kind of being might be loyal to one such as him.

If only they knew.

“Although,” he continued, “there are a great many fates worse than death in this world. Perhaps death itself will be your mercy.”

They would not enjoy what Dream would do with them when he got out.

They ought to know what they were messing with. They had summoned him as Nightmare, used a spell that called to the darker elements of his nature. But then, human folly knew no bounds.

The men had not contained Dream very well, either. Tonight, when they slept, he should be able to slip into their dreams and compel one of them to break the circle. That was if someone else did not get there first.

Dream hoped someone else got there first.

He felt it was only fair to get a little show in return for his trouble.

The men looked truly unnerved now, but Dream offered no more explanation. Let them stew in what they had wrought. It was satisfying, incredibly satisfying, to watch them shake in it.

Dream did not have to wait long for his reckoning.

The door flew open, banging into the wall. Hob stood in the doorway, haloed by the hallway light, one hand grasping a crowbar that Dream knew he usually kept in his car. Dream’s summoners were armed with guns, but Dream was not concerned, and not only because Hob could not die.

“Hello, Hob,” he intoned. The other men looked between the two of them, shocked into inaction.

“Hi, love,” said Hob. His tone was light but the look in his eyes was not. “You alright?”

“I feel deprived of my day off,” Dream complained. “We had plans.”

“Hmm. That we did.”

One of his captors, the one who had scorned his offer of mercy, finally regained his senses enough to raise his weapon. Dream propped his head in his hands to watch.

Some days, Dream wished he could have seen Hob on a proper battlefield, sword in hand, ruthless, brutal efficiency on full display. There was no elegance to the way Hob fought, only experience, instinct, and an utter lack of pretension characteristic of one who had used those skills for illicit gain and survival rather than showmanship. Dream loved every second of it, especially when it was brought to bear for him.

Hob cracked the man across the hand, knocking his gun aside, then smashed him overhand with the crowbar. Dream heard the man’s skull audibly split.

Hob spun for the other, who was scrambling for his gun. Dream watched with disgust. Such amateurs dared to summon him? They knew not what they meddled with.

Hob backhanded the man across the cheek before he could even properly grip his gun, and the man shrieked, falling backwards. Hob turned to Dream. “You wanna…?” He waved a hand as if to indicate plunge him into endless torment.

Dream shook his head. Such sorry excuses for men did not deserve his effort.

Hob shrugged and smashed the man over the head with the crowbar again, not quite killing him but pushing him very close to his sister’s embrace.

Footsteps down the hall, and then two more men burst into the room. One held a cattle prod instead of a gun; Dream could only assume it had been meant for him, and they simply had not found cause to use it yet. Hob’s gaze zeroed in on it, and something dark sharpened in his eyes.

“You’ll regret that, but you won’t have long to do it,” he said, dropping his crowbar as he ducked the man’s lunging blow with the cattle prod to grab him around the back of the neck and knee him in the gut. The man doubled over, gasping, hand spasming as he dropped his weapon. Hob twisted him into a headlock, his arm an iron bar across the man’s throat.

“Next time you mess with beings beyond your understanding,” he growled, “consider that they might have someone waiting at home for them.”

Dream’s breath caught. He watched as the air seeped out of his captor under Hob’s grip until he slumped to the floor. This was all far more satisfying – and attractive – than he’d even anticipated.

He was so caught up in the vicious heroics of it all that he didn’t realize the final co-conspirator had pointed his gun at him until Hob said, very low and very dark, “I wouldn’t.”

Dream looked up at the last man standing, either the smartest or dumbest of the group based on his current antics, depending on which way one looked at it. His hand was shaking where it was pointing the gun at Dream’s chest.

“I’ll kill him!” his captor insisted, voice squeaking up an octave in fear. Was Hob frightening? Dream supposed he was, from that angle. The thought thrilled something in him.

“I wouldn’t,” Hob repeated, the man’s fate should he do so very clear in his voice. A bullet would not kill Dream, of course, but bound as he still was by the summoning circle, it would probably hurt. Besides, it would upset Hob, and that was not acceptable.

The man looked wildly between Dream and Hob as if trying to decide who would be less likely to kill him. At this point, he would probably be better off jumping into the summoning circle with Dream and being consumed by his nightmares. The look on Hob’s face was not charitable.

True to Dream’s supposition, the man swung back around to point his gun at Hob, but hesitated half a second before firing. Hob moved in the space of that hesitation, moved like shadow in a way Dream’s nightmares themselves could learn from, grabbed the man’s arm and forced it up and back so the moment his finger pressed down on the trigger the bullet went right between his eyes.

Blood splattered. The body dropped. Dream didn’t bother to watch; instead, he was watching Hob. The sweat just prickling his brow, the way his chest rose and fell with exertion. The utter steadiness of his hands.

Hob strode over to the circle, brushing through it with his foot, then stepped in to crouch beside Dream. He took Dream’s face between his hands, looking him over with concern. “Are you alright, my love?”

“Quite.” Dream’s lips tipped up in a smile; he leaned into Hob’s hands. “I enjoyed your heroics.”

“Oh?” Hob’s concern fell away, replaced by humor. “Did you?”

“Mm. You were gallant and ruthless.”

“Didn’t think those could go together,” Hob said.

“And full of contradictions,” Dream added, and Hob laughed. Dream rested his hands on Hob’s sides, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. “I believe you may be featuring in some nightmares now. For the ones who are remaining, that is.”

Hob hummed, evidently not upset about it. “Should see yourself.” He traced under Dream’s eye.

Dream had thus far neglected to let his eyes slip back to their more human appearance after the summoning. When he smiled, his teeth felt a bit sharper than usual. “They summoned Nightmare, and Nightmare is what they received.”

Hob kissed his forehead. “Summoned,” he repeated, a banked flame in the word. “Oh, I hope you weren’t scared.”

“They trapped me poorly, I would have escaped as soon as night fell. But failing that…” Dream pressed Hob’s hand to his cheek. “I knew that you would come for me.”

Hob pulled away again to look at him, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. There was something in that look, too, beyond fondness. Like he was proud of Dream, almost. “Always.”

He helped Dream to his feet. Dream didn’t need the help, but Hob’s touch was pleasant. He leaned into Hob’s side as Hob rested a hand low on his back.

“You know…” he mused, “it can be quite tiring for one to be summoned.”

Hob looked at him sidelong. “Are you trying to get me to carry you?”

“…If it is on offer.”

Hob sighed heavily. “Suppose it wouldn’t be a proper storybook rescue mission otherwise.”

“Precisely,” Dream agreed.

“You’re a menace,” Hob declared, but obligingly bent and scooped Dream up in his arms. His body was pleasantly warm after the exertion of the fight, and solid as always.

Dream tipped his head against his shoulder, hiding a smile. “Gallant,” he murmured.

They were nearly to the door when there was a fluttering of wings, and Death was standing in the center of the room. She looked from Dream in Hob’s arms, to the bodies scattered on the floor, and back again, an aggrieved expression on her face. “Please tell me this wasn’t elaborate roleplay.”

“It is my understanding that role play should not come with a body count,” Dream told her solemnly, and she shook her head.

“Whatever it is, I’ll leave you to it.” She tipped her head at the bodies. “I have work to do.”

“Sorry,” said Hob, not sounding very sorry.

Death sighed and waved them away, crouching beside one of the collapsed men. She whistled. “You did a number on him.”

“Nobody gets to try to capture Dream anymore,” Hob said, indignant, arm tightening around Dream’s shoulders.

“Quite right,” said Death. She looked up at them again with a small smile. “Take care of him, Hob.”

Dream should have felt more offended by this. But it was hard to care about much when Hob was carrying him so delicately.

“Always will,” said Hob, his tone soft but certain, and Dream pressed his face into his chest.

“You know,” Hob murmured as they left the building and stepped out into the cool evening air, “it could be elaborate roleplay.”

Dream’s lips tipped up in a smile. He leaned back against Hob’s arm to look up at him. “In the Dreaming all things are possible. No permanent bloodshed required.”

Hob smiled down at him, sharp and fond at once. “My thoughts exactly, darling.”

#just utter silliness in this one #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #laughing to myself about how i didn't describe the setting AT ALL like where are they? oh just. a room #who knows #😂#FUCK NOT ME REALIZING BELATEDLY THAT THEY CALL HIM DREAM BUT THEY SUMMONED HIM AS NIGHTMARE #it's fine it's fine it's cool it's fine inconsistencies abound it's fine

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 1 year

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Idk if this is going to make any sense, but I always feel like there's something missing when I read thoughts about sskk and it really is the impact Kyouka has on them.

Like, a lot of it is "look at the impact Atsushi and Akutagawa have on each other" and "they are so similar at their cores" which is true! And essential for any bsd partner dynamic! But Kyouka also has commonalities - she has Atsushi's general wonder, simple wants and joys, and desire to be helpful and kind, but also Akutagawa's laser focused objectivity, initial lack of questioning orders, and straightforward ruthlessness when required.

But a lot of the external influence on sskk I see mentioned is Dazai and Chuuya's... which I get, because they're the previous double black, but also Chuuya is very minorly involved by proxy only, and while Dazai undeniably is at the heart of sskk conflict (and it's good to analyze in depth!!!), I feel it's understated how much it was actually Kyouka who kickstarted the development between them - Atsushi was brand-new to the Agency, but saving Kyouka cemented his mindset of proving his worth and also gave him someone to look out for - his position became less fragile from that point on and more permanent. Her mix of kindness and darkness also forces Atsushi in the Guild arc to reassess the idea that people are either "good" or "bad". (He's working on this still, but his judgements are becoming much more nuanced than at the beginning.) And as for Akutagawa... I have a lot of thoughts on their dynamic and how I really don't think there's a whole lot of bad blood there anymore after my all-time favourite scene where they fight in Cannibalism arc - but all I will say is that he legitimately thought what he was doing would make her strong enough to survive, and both Kyouka and Atsushi telling him this is wrong, that people can't live being beaten down like that forces him to reassess his own situation in the Hawthorne and Mitchell fight. (He still has a ways to go, but I seriously hope he eventually realizes that his treatment by Dazai was horribly unnecessary and cruel.)

But what's great is that Atsushi and Akutagawa influence her development too! I don't even need to get into Atsushi's: he believes in her potential and sees her as the young girl she is - not a weapon but a person. She starts off pretty much attached to him and only him, but as time goes on, she starts to adopt a more positive mindset and becomes more confident making decisions as a result of his faith in her. With Akutagawa, she is, like Atsushi, forced to reassess others, especially after he tells her he's glad for her having found that will to live. Kyouka is unable to continue fighting him after that, and I get the sense she saw him as a person there, instead of only the man who harmed her. I also find it really interesting that she has no shame or concern about her mindset aligning much more closely with his, to the point where she'll work with him if necessary.

This is a bit of a mess but really it's one long-winded ramble on how I loved these three working together in Dead Apple and would love to see them working and fighting alongside each other again. I know, I know, this is probably not going to happen because it's supposed to be about sskk as a duo but consider:

They are a trio in my heart.

#the fighting style approach could also be really interesting. sskk relies on atsushi as offense and akutagawa as defense #but this often leaves akutagawa more vulnerable #kyouka is perfectly equipped to be the 'midfielder' in a sense #also if anyone has any good fic recs with these three working together i would love to see it #also also kyouka and akutagawa foil characters real #this whole thing might be one reason why i was a bit disappointed about kyouka's role in beast tbh... like it made sense but also #i think more could've been done with her #but that's a whole different thing that i don't really want to get into #anyways let's analyze all these characters together because foiling abounds:#atsushi lucy sigma tachihara kyouka akutagawa #also they should all hang out i think.#bsd #bsd atsushi #bsd akutagawa #bsd kyouka #shin soukoku #sskk #potentially it could be kyouka who comes across vampire akutagawa and that would be a very interesting confrontation.#fingers crossed because i am fascinated by their dynamic

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sleepvines · 3 months

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okay fine, heres Quay

#quay #my art #hodpod #2024 #couldn't help it #he needs to be gnarly again #this is what most of the scrappings in my sketchbook looks like #messy redraws of arm placement and scribbles abound #funny orca eat a burger

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nagararitsu · 4 months

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I just saw a girl say acotar has good political world building and that cassandra clare’s books have the best world building ever. and it was a fully grown adult not like a 12 year old. convinced she’s never read anything outside of the ‘dark romance/dark fantasy’ genre. or perhaps she is illiterate. or maybe she is secretly 3 12 year olds in a trench coat

#and she also liked colleen hoover #red flags abound #anti sjm #anti cc #anti booktok

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coles-walloper · 8 months

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I rediscovered the world of 2000s blinkies and oh boy…

… it was totally worth the 2 hour of time spent making Ninjago quote banners lolol.

#I’ll have to explain Lloyd’s quote #but basically there was this YouTube video over all the times the ninjas scream their elemental powers #and when Lloyd’s part came - it went something like ‘Everyone wonders what Lloyd’s elemental powers are’#‘but really - WHAT is Lloyd’s power’#and proceeded to play every time Lloyd has said the word ‘what’ in the show #I can never hear the word ‘what’ the same again 😂#crazy tagging (in order) abounds:#kai smith #jay walker #cole brookstone #lloyd garmadon #zane julien #pixal borg #skylor chen #nya smith

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tiny--cryptid · 9 months

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Playing a fun little game with all of Wally's character traits called "Plot Point or Autism?"

#is the tired droning way he talks a symptom of his Awareness or just a naturally flat affect #is the way he never responds in the answer pages some product of the scripted nature of the world or does he just not feel like speaking #and so on and so forth. mysteries abound #welcome home #welcome home wally #wally darling

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ohno-the-sun · 11 months

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Monster designs

Been thinking of an au

#sundrop #fnaf daycare attendant #moondrop #daycare attendant au #they be cursed #body horror abound #tags for me to remember lol don’t read #they only look like this during the full moon and summer solstice respectively #also ice for moon and fire for sun #obviously lol #moon is less dangerous but transforms more often so danger in that #sun transforms only like once a year so able to hide but super duper dangerous #accidentally killed his mom cause he underestimated how bad it can get smh irresponsible #moon in orphanage sun in higher income house #meet later big stand-off lol #moon with some bad peeps who kidnap people for ransom and sun gets kidnapped #bag over head so neither realize at first #shenanigans ensue #omg bestie you’ve also been targeted by some weird cult ur whole life omg same!!#also poor moon he’s only had one caretaker at the orphanage that knew about the thing and still cared for him #but then they go missing uh oh #oh yeah they need the masks #or else no memory and also they become more dangerous

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countthelions · 5 months

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joel: you're useless to me (pauses) wait that was rude (gets ridiculously close to etho) boat boys

#why are they like this (affectionately)#i am LOVING the absolute chaos of this series #foolishness is abounds #secret life smp #secret life spoilers #mcyt

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sugarsnappeases · 2 months

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microfic - lilyritaminerva (i can explain!!) | 1.5k words | college students (lily & rita) competing for professor minerva’s attention, so age gap and kinda suggestive content

“Professor, would you be able to help me with something?” Rita glanced behind her as she spoke, feeling a thrill run through her at the sight of Lily’s scowl, just three steps behind her but they were three steps too many. Rita had won this round.

She flashed Lily a smile, her sharp, mean one, before looking back at Professor McGonagall who was leaning against her desk, eyes shifting between Lily and Rita, a glimmer of something in them that was gone before Rita could even begin to decipher it.

“That rather depends on what that something is, Miss Skeeter” Professor McGonagall replied, those eyes settling on her, solid and exhilarating and making Rita’s heart race in the way that having her full attention always did.

The professor was terrifying, and brilliant, and Rita wanted to sit at her feet like a dog, she would wear a leash if the professor wanted, she would do anything if the professor wanted, as long as it meant that her attention was on Rita, and not on Lily.

Lily didn’t deserve it anywhere near as much as Rita did. She wished she could say that Lily was an awful student, or that she had never had a single interesting thought, or that she didn’t deserve to be at the university, let alone anywhere near Professor McGonagall, but she had spent enough time eavesdropping on conversations that Lily had and hacking into the university mainframe to read her essays to know that wouldn’t be true.

Lily was unfortunately intelligent, and her essays were horribly well-thought out, and she had more than earned her place there, but Rita was better, she knew she was better, and she deserved the weight of Professor McGonagall eyes on her, she deserved her approval and her attention and she deserved to be allowed to sit on the professor’s lap and slide her hands under that blazer.

Rita forcefully pulled her thoughts back to the matter at hand and opened her mouth to explain what she wanted help with, but Professor McGonagall spoke again before she could,

“Oh - Miss Evans, if you could wait just a moment, there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you”

Rita turned again, Lily had a hand on the door to the classroom and it was her turn to flash a smile, spiteful and victorious and making Rita want to slap her.

The door shut and they were the only three people left in the room, Lily taking a few steps closer to the front desk, smugness in every line of her body as she answered, “Of course, Professor”

It was making Rita feel violent. She fantasised sometimes, about attacking Lily, just tackling her right there in the classroom, under the watchful eyes of Professor McGonagall.

Maybe she would smile approvingly at Rita as she pulled at Lily’s hair, as she slapped the smug smile off Lily’s face, as she straddled Lily on the floor, ripping at one of those smart blouses that Lily liked to wear, ruining how neat and put-together she always looked, as she bruised Lily’s pale, delicate skin, as she beat Lily once and for all.

Maybe Professor McGonagall would give Rita a prize for her victory, maybe the prize would involve being pushed up against the desk, the professor’s firm hands on her hips, or maybe one around her neck, pressing her back into the hard wood of the desk, the shiny metal nameplate digging into her spine, and the other hand sliding up her thigh, under the short, short skirts she always wore to these classes, pushing her knickers to one side and -

“Miss Skeeter?” Professor McGonagall was asking and Rita felt like she might die. She blinked out of the haze of her thoughts and glared over at Lily, who was chuckling under her breath.

Lily just raised an eyebrow and Rita rolled her eyes, turning back to face the professor properly. Professor McGonagall was still leaning against the front of her desk, fingers drumming against it, brows slightly furrowed, impatient.

“Sorry, Professor,” Rita was sure that she was blushing, “I just got lost in my thoughts a little”

She didn’t miss the way that Professor McGonagall smirked, just a little, the smallest little twitch of her cheek, and it only made her blush more, she was sure that the professor could tell exactly what direction her thoughts had been heading.

“Well, get on with it then,” she demanded, “What’s this thing you need help with?”

And suddenly, Rita felt a little daring, a little bold, a little shameless. Like a switch flipping, all thoughts of the question she had about her essay retreating as she was overtaken by something that was probably more than a little dangerous.

She took a step closer to the desk, pushing her shoulders back a bit and tilting her head to one side, “I’ve got this problem, you see, it’s rather personal,”

Professor McGonagall straightened slightly, then narrowed her eyes, and Rita didn’t know whether it was because of her tone of voice or the way she was batting her eyelashes or the way that she had taken yet another step closer but she felt something curl with satisfaction in her stomach at the sight of the movement.

It was a cliché probably but Rita was leaning into it as she stepped forward again, only a few paces away from the desk now, continuing in a low voice, “And with all the time I spend doing work for your classes…”

The professor raised an eyebrow then, which was probably fair enough, because although a lot of her time did go towards the actual work, the vast majority of it was spent coming up with ways to get Professor McGonagall’s attention, or obsessively tracking whatever Lily was doing to make sure she was still winning. Speaking of, Rita glanced briefly over to where Lily had walked further back into the room, hands clenched tight around the strap of her satchel, watching the scene in front of her like she was studying it.

“… I haven’t been able to find anyone to help me with it,” Rita finished, focussing back on the professor in front of her, who’s eyes flicked quickly up and down Rita’s body before meeting hers again, heavy and exhilarating.

Rita felt like she was diving headfirst into a volcano and she really quite desperately wanted to burn so she took the last few steps forward, coming to a stop directly in front of Professor McGonagall, close enough that if the professor spread her legs just a little, Rita could settle quite nicely in between them.

She clasped her hands behind her back to stop herself from reaching out and spoke again, slow and suggestive, “And I thought, being as it’s your work that’s stopping me from finding anyone, that maybe you could help me?”

Professor McGonagall smirked again, just a little, and then, as if she was reading her mind, lifted her hands from the desk and placed them on Rita’s hips instead, spreading her legs and pulling Rita into the space between them, nestled there like it was where she belonged. Rita was sure she was bright red, she hadn’t been sure this would work at all but victory was singing through her veins as she heard the way that Lily had gasped at the professor’s actions.

“I’ve just been so tense lately,” Rita went on, pressing her thighs together as the hands at her hips squeezed slightly, “And I really think you might be able to help me relax… Minerva”

The professor smirked, moving her hands to rest on Rita’s arse, pulling her even closer, leaning in so that Rita could feel her breath on her ear,

“Oh Rita,” Professor McGonagall breathed, making Rita both shiver and feel like she was on fire, unclasping her hands and bringing them up to rest on the professor’s chest, “I think I know just the thing,”

“Yeah?” Rita asked, biting at her lip to stop the word from turning into a moan.

“Oh yes,” the professor continued, pulling back a little to look her in the eye, that solid, exhilarating gaze, something glimmering in it that Rita couldn’t quite decipher. Then, Professor McGonagall was moving her hands, back up to Rita’s hips and pushing her round to one side, “Why don’t you ask Miss Evans to help you?”

Rita’s mouth fell open, looking at Lily who was standing just a few paces away and looking right back, face red and a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and slightly hazy just like Rita expected her own were. She glanced back at Professor McGonagall, feeling both a little betrayed and a lot turned on, as the professor dropped her hands from Rita’s hips and placed them back on the desk behind her again.

She just chuckled at whatever was probably written all over Rita’s face, “I think she might be having a similar problem, I’m sure you could… solve it together.”

Then, Professor McGonagall smiled, her own victorious smile, sharp and amused, “You two are my best students after all.”

#they let me out of uni and i start having thoughts abound #and like. hot thoughts. like might just be me but this is very hot to me #like maybe tmi but. i never get like. turned on by my own writing but something about this one…… not reading into what this says about me #ANYWAY #lilyritaminerva #<- awful name #lily evans #rita skeeter #minerva mcgonagall #microfic marching along!!!!!!!!#kara’s incy wincy fics

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salty-an-disco · 28 days

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Some ❤️‍🔥 Smitten and Stranger perhaps??? Or just friendly, i love these two a lot :)

❤️‍🔥 A romantic headcanon

Hmmmm, I see the vision, but personally can’t imagine them as a romantic pair. So’ll have to go more friendly again lol (can prolly be read as romantic if you want tho)

I can see Smitten getting along really well with their individual alters, and while getting to know them, comes up with affectionate nicknames for them all.

Calls Neutral ‘Limelight’ (because they’re often the one hosting), Soft ‘Dandelion’, Harsh ‘Night Dame’ (they prefer to host at night), Emo ‘Little Cloud’, and Monster ‘Dearest Spark’.

They all really like their nicknames :D

#I imagine they also have different ways to refer to him #that range from things like ‘doofus’ to ‘prince’ lol #Neutral doesn’t really use nicknames. and Stranger as a whole also don’t. but the moment one of the others comes out? Then it’s nicknames #abound!!#slay the princess #the stranger #voice of the smitten #mailbox #stp headcanons

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thebrightsessions · 10 months

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Hi !

I just finished the brights sessions and in one of the episode D. Bright said that the atypical represented 4% of the world's population, and that let me wondering, considering that almost every atypical that we encounter in the serie is queer, what percent of the queer community is atypical ?

Apart from that, i love your show and all of the amazing character! I hope you have a great day !

Oooh GREAT question! Lemme do some quick math here...

Okay, according to my universe bible (which is pretty accurate, if not fully comprehensive, I'm sure there's stuff I forgot to write down), there are 29 known and named atypicals across the 7 seasons of the podcasts, excluding the Bright Sides (Season 5, the bonus episodes) and the three books (though there is some overlap) but including Frank Sawyer and Sadie Greenwood, who are, like...atypical-adjacent.

Of those 30 atypicals (presuming I counted correctly (does this post have enough parentheticals yet?)), 14 are definitely canonically queer in one way or another. So, by that logic, nearly half of the atypical population is queer! I have a feeling that number would go up if I were to go through and pull out all the folks from the books and the bonus episodes (which perhaps I will do someday but I don't know the orientation of all the bonus ep characters (bc they were created by other people) and pulling out characters from the books is always a mess because, uh, I do not outline lol) but I also don't know that I can say our little atypical population is fully representative of the global population's queerness? Like flocks to like, so perhaps this a somewhat self-selecting bunch, or maybe there really is just a very high correlation between being atypical and being queer. Dealer's (fanfic writer and headcanon-er's) choice!

Counts under the cut:

Known Atypicals:

characters who are canonically queer are bolded - these are characters who either have queer relationships or talk specifically about their identity. some folks on this list are straight (Frank, Sadie, Marley, Jackson, Blackwell, (though tbf, Sadie is the only person in the whole series who ever says they're straight I'm pretty sure, so who knows)), but there are plenty who we never say one way or another, so anything is possible!

Sam Barnes Caleb Michaels Chloe Turner Frank Sawyer Robert "Damien" Gorham Mark Bryant Rose Atkinson Franklin "Frankie" Meeks Sadie Greenwood Ben Bernard Oliver Ritz Margaret "Mags" Densmore Jackson Crawford Jason "Marley" Beck Seamus Blackwell Michal Sharon Helen Sidney Alice Michaels Alice Rufie Jordan Tobias Sitzer Alexis Neal Cat Cam Vanessa Turner Ira Alex "Blaze" Chen Maguerite Sarai

#the bright sessions #character stats #queer characters abound!!!#also pls message me if any of this is incorrect #YES this is lauren yes I wrote this show #but especially with later characters I didn't create them all!#but god yeah of the original bunch #that's a lot of bi/demi people lol #bisexual people? in MY writing? it's more likely than you think #and you probably think its extremely likely #which just goes to show #also its funny so many of them have non-atypical partners #like the venn diagram of queer atypicals who have dated each other is NOT enormous and lo and behold #mark is literally the common denominator amongst all of them lol #......like literally the only romantic pair on here that doesn't involve mark is sam/mags #otherwise it's #mark/sam #mark/oliver #mark/damien #(obviously those last two never dated)#(unrequited love situation)#(but still)#(you know in which direction its unrequited you know?)#ANYWAY #answered

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